Knife Throwers
by Julia451
Summary: What's the most interesting moment in "The Blue Spirit" in retrospect? The moment when Zuko remembers a debate he once had with Mai about the merits of swords versus knives. Mai/Zuko Maiko one-shot.


"You're no fun anymore," Mai lamented when his interest in knives waned after he discovered dual swords.

The young prince put his new weapons (the greatest gift Uncle had ever given him for his twelfth birthday three months ago) down by the tree behind them for a second, picked up a knife, aimed carefully, and let it fly. It wasn't his worst throw, hitting the target only a few inches off-center. He sighed in boredom as he realized he didn't care. "Neither is this," he said as hoisted his swords back over his head and swung them at an invisible opponent.

In response, Mai unsheathed four throwing stars from her wrist holsters at once; before Zuko could blink, they had landed dead-center in four different targets. "More blades, more fun," Mai said flatly.

Zuko stowed one of his swords over his back and picked up another knife from those laid out on a strip of cloth on a rock. "They're so... tiny," he pointed out, holding the two weapons before him, raising his hands up and down, as if wondering how it couldn't be obvious.

Mai took the sword from him and waved it slowly through the air once before giving it back with a bored sigh of her own. "They're so clunky. How many swords can you carry on you?"

"Two swords are all you need. How many knives do you need to cause any real damage?"

"Did you seriously just ask me how many knives it takes to sever an artery?"

"How many 'arteries' do you have to sever to win a battle? Which would you rather go up against an army with – one knife, or one sword?"

"I never have just one knife," Mai said, as if implying otherwise was the most foolish, illogical statement a human being could utter. "You can never have too many knives."

"Because they're no good," Zuko said triumphantly, unsheathing his other sword. "What can you do with them? You stab things. You throw them, and they hit something. That's it. Big deal – nothing happens. You can't _do_ stuff with them like this..."

Mai watched her friend do his little dance (as she called all such displays with his new toys in her head) for a moment before rolling her eyes. "Oh, yeah, that looks _so_ impressive."

Zuko stopped and turned to face her, a confident grin on his face. "Wait 'til you see me in action, then you'll see what I can do with these."

Mai folded her arms and almost grinned back. "I'll take down ten guys in two seconds while you're still busy raising those things over your head."

Undaunted, Zuko took a step towards her. "And when you run out and have to stand around with nothing left to throw, I'll still be hard at work."

"Until you lose them and have to stand around with no others to fall back on." Zuko opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Mai added, "Fire doesn't count," and he saved his breath. Instead, he watched Mai cartwheel backwards and an arrow shoot out of her left ankle before disappearing into the branches above them. He heard a thunk behind her as a peachapple fell to the ground, the arrow lodged in its center. She paused to give him a much more distinct, smug grin before turning around to retrieve her weapon.

"I don't have an endless supply of firepower, but these are close enough," Mai said with complete satisfaction as she twirled the arrow between her fingers. "How can you compare two boring swords with a plethora of different blades you can throw at your opponents over and over again, finishing them off one after another without taking a step? Oh, yeah... good luck attacking from a distance with those things, too."

Zuko pointed one of his swords at her. "Good luck holding them off with those pins and needles when they get too close."

Mai stepped right up to the sharp, metal tip and pointed the arrow at him. "Try me."

"Can't." Zuko lowered the weapon to his side. "It's dishonorable to attack an unarmed opponent."

"True." Mai shrugged and flicked the arrow aside towards the targets without even looking. Zuko wasn't surprised to see it still hit the center of one of them. "It's for the best, anyway. You're not worthy to wield the superior weapons of a master."

"You should've thought of that before you taught me so much," Zuko said with a smirk. He turned aside and selected the biggest knife from the batch on the rock. Its heavier weight made it easier for him to throw. It soared across the garden and sliced Mai's wooden arrow right down the middle as it found its mark. Mai's only praise was a smile, but he knew how many words it was worth. "In fact, I still owe you for all those lessons. I can't teach you Firebending, so..." He held a sword out to her again, but in a very different way.

"I'll pass."

"You don't know what you're missing."

"Really?" Mai asked sarcastically but not mockingly. She took the sword and, with both her hands wrapped around the handle, practiced a few quick swings like she was trying to cut the air to shreds, before stopping and shrugging. "Could be useful, but I'll stick with my specialty, thanks."

Zuko smiled at her and said proudly, "And _I'll_ stick with mine."

"You do that." He followed Mai over to the targets, where she began pulling her weapons free and reloading them in their holsters. Except for the last one, which she held out in his direction. "You might want to keep one or two for back up, though."

"I'm good."

"Have it your way," Mai said nonchalantly. Zuko started to walk away, only to stop short when she tossed the knife up in the air as if it were a ball. He instinctively reached out and caught it by the handle as it tumbled down towards him. "But they can come in handy."

"Uh... thanks. I'll... keep it in mind."

"Don't learn it the hard way."

"You know me."

"_Exactly._"

With that, the two friends strolled away from a typical, uneventful, pleasant but forgettable day in the training yard.

Zuko never thought of that day again until the night he began gathering his supplies for his riskiest mission to date. Leaving his uniform, swords, and mask locked in his quarters, he sneaked down to the galley, where he packed a small satchel of food, and then to the weapons vault. He had just helped himself to some light underarmor and a small chain when his eyes fell on the knives hanging on the wall next to him.

He had conditioned his mind long ago to avoid memories associated with a specific figure, but he nonetheless stopped, looked, and wondered... he was going into dangerous territory – would it be a good idea to...? He didn't finish the thought, but he did pull one down and drew it from the sheath. Definitely a sailor's knife – strong, sturdy, slightly curved end. It was a heavy, thick-handled, bulky thing with a blade almost as long as his forearm. _She would never touch it_, he couldn't stop his mind from thinking. But it would do.

He had less than a second to react when he saw that guard reach for the signal horn that would ruin everything if sounded. He only had one shot. _Make it count. Remember what she taught you. Concentrate, aim, and..._

The knife hit its target perfectly. The instant when the guard was stunned by how quickly it knocked the horn out of his hand was just long enough to think, _She was right – it __**did**__ come in handy._


End file.
